


ghosts coming unburied

by i_wont_fall_asleep



Series: always with one wing dipped in blood [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Hand-To-Hand Combat, Minor Violence, Ridiculous Superhero Names, Swearing, but u don't need to know anything to like this, if you like jason todd or the batfam than ENJOY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_wont_fall_asleep/pseuds/i_wont_fall_asleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Red Lion, I’m detecting someone or something coming at you fast from your south-east,' Green Lion’s voice crackled through the comm. in his ear."</p>
            </blockquote>





	ghosts coming unburied

"but to be furious, murderously furious, is to be alive. no longer young, no longer pretty, no longer loved, or sweet, or loveable, unmasked, writhing on the ground for all to see in my utter ingloriousness… there’s no telling what i might do."

-claire messud, _the woman upstairs_

* * *

 

“Red Lion, I’m detecting some _one_ or some _thing_ coming at you fast from your south-east,” Green Lion’s voice crackled through the comm. in his ear.

He scanned across the rooftops, his eyes squinting behind the small red domino mask that covered the strip surrounding his eyes, “I don’t see anything. Are you sure?”

Green Lion snorted, and Keith could just imagine Pidge’s amused face all highlighted by her menagerie of computer screens, “When have I ever not been sure? Just keep your eyes open. BL has been getting intel lately that someone is looking to make some heavy moves in Gotham.”

It was Keith’s turn to snort, softly twirling his two combat knives, both blunt enough to ensure Keith kept inside the “absolutely not killing” box Shiro upheld, but sharp enough to keep Keith safe and dangerous.

“Well, BL is paranoid and when isn’t someone trying to stir up some shit here?”

“Good point but I still-”

Keith was unable to hear the rest of her sentence when a heavy body slammed into his, causing him to roll across the gravel and coming to a stop on one knee.

“Tsk-Tsk, I expected more from you, dude. What, did you lose your edge? What would the Black Lion say?”

Keith looked up to the sound of the mocking voice and stood up and stared at the figure casually leaning against a row of piping. The guy was tall, taller than Keith at least, and was wearing a sleek blue-grey helmet. His clothes didn’t seem to be part of a specific uniform, just a dark leather jacket and dark jeans to match; his boots were crossed at the ankles, giving the entire aura of devil-may-care attitude.

“Do I know you?” Red Lion, and Keith always said the difference was in the tone, spoke.

Apparently this was the funniest thing he could have said because the guy just started laughing, uproariously but with an angry tinge to it.

“Oh wow, I guess you did learn to make a joke.” The guy pretended to wipe tears from the eye-holes in the helmet, “I gotta say I’m proud honestly. My baby all grown up.”

Keith rolled his eyes, although the guy wouldn’t be able to see it underneath the domino, “Can I at least get a name? It’s only polite seeing as you just knocked into me.”

The guy shrugged, his shoulders all loose and at ease, “Which one you want? I’ve got quite a few in my pocket.”

“How about the one that lets you wear something as ridiculous as that helmet?”

“Ooh, you wound me, Red Lion,” The guy grabbed at his chest, “Especially considering you spent a good while being called Cub.”

Keith narrowed his eyes, “Who are you?”

He had been taken in by Shiro when he was twelve, right after his parents died in a car crash that was caused by a chase between the Black Lion and Sendak. Shiro made a promise that in atonement for being partially responsible for their deaths (although Keith never saw it like that) he would allow him to become his partner and thus the dynamic duo, Black Lion and Cub, was born. Until, at least, Keith got older and felt embarrassed by the name and instead took the mantel of the Red Lion.

But that had been years ago and there hadn’t been a Cub in Gotham since…

The guy looked at his glove, seemingly picking at an invisible loose thread, “I’m whoever you want me to be, sweetheart.”

“Cute,” Keith snorted, it wasn’t the first time an adversary liked to use pet names, “Who are you? What are you doing in Gotham?”

“Let’s just say I’m the guardian angel that Gotham needs. No wait,” The guy, this ‘Guardian Angel’, tilted his head, “the one she _deserves_.”

Keith felt something shift in the air, and he really wished his earpiece hadn’t fallen out when he had been knocked down. He just hoped Pidge was watching from the camera that was placed on the edge of the building they were currently on.

He squared his shoulders, “Gotham has enough protectors as is. Find another city.”

“Oh, is that so?” 'Guardian Angel' barked out a laugh, all razor’s edge, “Well, I’m _better_. I’m gonna do what you pussycats are unwilling to. I’m willing to take the deranged dogs foaming at the mouth to the pound and put them _down like the scum they are_.”

“It’s not our right to be executioner and neither is it yours.” Keith clenched his knives tightly.

“I actually follow a different code,” The guy stalked forward, his body language screaming predator, “Let the punishment fit the crime.”

Red Lion was expecting the lunge from the guy, but not by much, only able to just pivot out of the way to round back on the guy. He twisted around, bringing his forearms up just in time to block the flurry of punches aimed at his face. Keith stepped in close and slammed his knee into the guy’s stomach but despite the audible grunt, the guy just grabbed Keith’s leg and twisted, forcing the Red Lion to jump and spin out of his grasp lest he wanted his knee dislocated.

Landing once again in the gravel and breathing hard, Keith was started to feel a little irritated at the guy’s obvious combat expertise.

The man’s stance was defensive and poised to fight, but his tone was conversational, “Don’t look so surprised; although I get the whole ‘street hoodlum’ attire can be misleading.”

“I would have used ‘gutter trash’ but.”

Keith stood up and ran full speed at the guy, tackling him, and hearing with satisfaction a pained groan from the guy on impact. They rolled across the rooftop, each gaining the upper-hand and landing a few blows before being rolled over again.

Finally, Keith was able to reach for one of his knives and held it to the guy’s throat; most people couldn’t tell the difference between a lethal and non-lethal knife which allowed Keith to use it for intimidation purposes (even if it was about as sharp as a butter knife).

“Who are you working for?”

He could hear the smirk in the asshole’s voice, “Little ‘ole me? No one. Although I did get some wonderful training from the League of Paladins. Such nice people.”

Allura. Her and that damned assortment of assassins she commanded always proved to be nothing good for Gotham.

“What does Allura want in Gotham this time?” Keith pushed the knife a bit harder against the skin, which made the guy… _giggle_?

“Oh, you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not acting as most of your opponents usually would but I’ve just never been known to be afraid of something that couldn’t even cut through my jacket.”

Keith flinched. How-

“How did I recognize that the two knives you carry around are the non-lethal sort?” The guy asked, eerily close to Keith’s internal thoughts, “Just the same way that I recognize _you_ , despite the costume alterations, the haircut, and the extra four inches— _Keith._ ”

Keith jerked back, falling off of the guy, and scrambling away, “Who-”

The guy stood up, dusting himself off, “God, you’re starting to sound like an owl: ‘ _Who? Who? Who?_ ’”

He had to stall; he had to get to his comm. that was lying a foot away in the dirt and call for backup now because some vigilante knew his identity.

“What would you want me to say?” Keith slowly inched his body over toward where his earpiece was, “What do you want with me?”

The man nodded, “See these are the right questions!”

“How so?”

Just a bit further…

“Well, I don’t actually want anything to do with you.” The guy paused, thinking, “Actually, not totally correct it’s just I wasn’t planning on our encounter being so soon but when I saw you up here, I couldn’t hold myself back.”

Keith slid his hand through the small rocks, fingers finally coming in contact with the little metal contraption, all he had to do was push-

“Uh uh uh.” The man grabbed his hand and plucked the device from it, “Pressing the emergency beacon and end our playdate? I’m hurt, Keith, you used to like playing with me.”

Before Keith could respond, the guy was bringing the comm. up to his mouth.

“Sorry Pidge but Keith-y is gonna be home late tonight. Don’t wait up!” Keith felt the blood drain from his face, “Oh and tell the big man I’ll be seeing him soon.”

He dropped the device and crushed it underneath his boot, rendering the entire thing useless.

“There, no more distractions.”

“How do you know-”

“Your identities? You and Pidge and,” The man’s voice dropped to a conspirators' whisper, “ _Takashi Shirogane,_ Gotham’s wealthiest and most noble rich boy?”

Keith remained silent.

“The same way you know mine.”

The man pressed a switch on the helmet and instantly there were metallic whirring sounds as the latches holding the thing in place disengaged. In a swift movement, he pulled off the thing and let it fall to the ground.

“Now, I know it’s been a few years but I don’t look too different, do I?”

Keith felt his stomach churn as he finally came face to face with his opponent, because while the guy had been right, it had been a few years, nearly six, Keith would never fail to recognize those cerulean blue eyes (even if there was a small scar cutting diagonally across the outer corner of the left one) or the cluster of moles dotting the skin underneath his ear.

“Lance?”

He crowed and spread his arms wide, “Ding ding ding! And that’s a 'correct' for the golden boy.”

Keith’s throat was dry and constricting, and his chest ached. Lance was at least eight inches taller and his hair was shaggier than the last time he had seen him—which had been at his _funeral_.

“How are you alive?” Keith choked out, staggering a bit forward.

“Ya’know the best attraction to visit at League Land had to be their Lazarus Pit.” Lance smirked knowingly, “Very revitalizing.”

The Lazarus Pit was a legend, a rumor that had never been proved one way or another, that stated Allura’s compound was built over a sentient pool that could heal any wound and even, possibly, give life back.

“When?” Keith felt like he was going insane.

Lance shrugged, although his shoulders looked tense, “Allura picked me up wondering the streets after I had clawed my way out of my grave. Which, 0/10, do not recommend.”

Hysteric laughter bubbled up in Keith’s throat, his friend was back from the dead and the guy was making _jokes_ , “Why didn’t you come back sooner?”

This was apparently the wrong thing to ask because Lance crowded into Keith’s space, pushing him roughly against the bricked wall, his features dark and furious, “Oh, I did come back and I saw our dear old Black Lion dashing around with my replacement. It hadn’t even been a year, Keith, and he found someone else.”

“Hunk’s not your replacement, Lance. No one could ever replace-”

“Stop it!” Lance smashed his fist into the side of Keith’s face, knocking his domino askew. “He was wearing the Cub’s costume. Did Shiro start interviewing for new sidekicks before I was even in the ground? Was I still in the morgue?” He hissed, his words acidic.

Keith’s head felt a little woozy and he definitely had blood in his mouth.

“It wasn’t like that, Lance. Shiro was shattered by your death. We all were.”

Lance laughed without a trace of humor, “'Death', huh? Sounds so much nicer than being murdered, than being beaten until nearly every bone in my body was snapped, until every internal organ was busted and bleeding, and then being left to be blown up in a warehouse. I can still hear the quite tick-ticking of the clock as it counted down the seconds left of my life.”

Keith felt like he was going to be sick. He had read Lance’s autopsy report so many times he had every injury memorized like an unholy prayer, but it was somehow so much worse hearing it firsthand.

“I’m so sorry, Lance.”

“I don’t want your apologies, Keith, I never did. Like I said, I wasn’t looking for you tonight.” Lance stood back, shaking his head.

“What do you want? What are you going to do?” Keith was shaking, feeling nothing like protector of Gotham he was supposed to be.

“What do I want?” Lance turned his back and walked forward a few paces before stopping and turning around, “I want what any murdered man wants, darling, I want to be avenged. But apparently our dear adoptive “dad”’s little moral code won’t allow for that. So I’ve got to do it myself.”

Lance started walking away, picking up his helmet and placing it back on which a _click_.

Keith moved off the wall, his body aching, and called after him, “Lance, don’t do this. I’ll stop you if I have to but, don’t make me. I just got you back.”

The other man paused at the edge of the roof, tilting is head minutely, “Make no mistake, Keith, I’m not the Lance you knew; he died that day in that warehouse—you buried him. I’m not ‘back’. I will achieve what I came to Gotham to finish what you all won’t. And no one will stand in my way.”

Lance stepped forward and dropped off the ledge leaving Keith alone in the night.

Keith tried to fix his mask before he just ripped it off and threw it on the ground, and shouted, “Fuck!”

“Fuck,” he whispered as he sat down, laying his head on his knees.

He knew Pidge had probably sent Shiro out to collect him after Lance had crushed the comm. and was probably only a few minutes out from where Keith was.

He hoped the tears that silently slide down his face would be dry by the time Shiro found him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the lovechild of me getting obsessed with VLD and DC at the same time. I'm sorry?


End file.
